


It's Time to Grow Up

by Blissymbolics



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, M/M, Post-Canon, RoyEd Week 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 12:29:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20227876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blissymbolics/pseuds/Blissymbolics
Summary: When Edward and Winry publicly announced their engagement at the tender age of nineteen, the whole country practically combusted in rumors of wedlock. But among those who knew Ed best, that wasn’t the main topic of gossip.Roy liked to think that his upbringing gave him a fairly decent eye for spotting those who didn’t conform to the traditional roles expected of society. Of course reading the preferences of others is not an exact science, but if anyone had asked him, he would’ve put down good money that Edward Elric would be the last person on earth to settle down with someone of the opposite sex.Riza seemed to read his mind before he could voice his views, but as she most aptly put it:“It’s none of our business.”





	It's Time to Grow Up

**Author's Note:**

> First day of Royed week and I'm definitely cheating! I couldn't really think of anything for the prompts, so I'm just using this week as an opportunity to throw out some stuff that's been kicking around my head for a while. Enjoy!

When Edward and Winry publicly announced their engagement at the tender age of nineteen, the whole country practically combusted in rumors of wedlock. But among those who knew Ed best, that wasn’t the main topic of gossip.

Roy liked to think that his upbringing gave him a fairly decent eye for spotting those who didn't conform to the traditional roles expected of society. Of course reading the preferences of others is not an exact science, but if anyone had asked him, he would’ve put down good money that Edward Elric would be the last person on earth to settle down with someone of the opposite sex.

Riza seemed to read his mind before he could voice his views, but as she most aptly put it:

“It’s none of our business.”

When the newlyweds announced just four months after the wedding that they were expecting their first child, Roy began to reconsider the possibility of wedlock. But no, the baby arrived a prompt ten months after the wedding.

It was a domestic miracle.

And quite possibly an accident.

They were only twenty after all. Not scandalously young, but it was hard to imagine a pair as talented and motivated as them deciding to settle down with a family when there were so many opportunities laid out before them.

Which is why it came to everyone’s surprise when less than a year after the birth of their first, they announced that they were expecting a second. A girl, equally as charming as her older brother. Roy couldn’t deny that as a pair they produced beautiful offspring.

So at barely the age of twenty-two, Edward Elric, the boy who only six years ago strutted around in platform shoes, whined over his milk, and drew obscene cartoons on his reports, found himself the father of two children.

How strange is that?

* * *

Ed called him from Risembool on a Tuesday night. Said he had to come up to Central for a few days to take care of some things; vague errands that Roy was too busy to inquire about in detail. But on autopilot, he offered the use of his guest room. After all, Central hotels are expensive, and the kid has two kids of his own now.

“With how fast you’re going you might have another by this time next year.”

Ed gave a small laugh over the line. “We’re not gonna have anymore kids.”

Roy waited for him to elaborate, or make a joke, but there was only silence on the other end. The conversation stalled until Roy awkwardly asked what time his train was coming in.

* * *

_Don’t think of him as a kid, _Roy reminds himself as he sits in his living room waiting for the doorbell to ring.

_He’s more of an adult than you are at this point. Thirty-six, unmarried, and still living in the same military subsidized housing that the men six ranks below you typically live in._

_Thirty-six, soon to be thirty-seven, and you haven’t grown a day since you were Fullmetal’s age._

At half-past ten, the doorbell chimes, startling Roy out of his depressing reverie.

He opens the door and finally gets the chance to look over Ed in person for the first time since his wedding day. A day that holds a mixed place in Roy’s memory, as it was impossible for him to ignore the feeling that he just witnessed two teenagers playing dress up as they legally signed their lives over to each other.

Three years later, Ed looks practically the same. It’s strange. There are definitely differences in his face. But he doesn’t look older. Just not as young.

He looks… well, he looks his age.

“Glad you made it.” Roy plasters on a smile. “How was the train?”

“Crowded, noisy, gross. Fuck, I’ve missed it.”

He toes off his shoes and kicks them by the door, setting his suitcase down with a thump.

“You look well.”

Ed grins as he pulls off his coat. “I feel like I grew a hundred new bones with a hundred new joints that pop all at once every time I yawn.”

“Don’t worry, it’ll only get worse from here,” Roy says, reaching out to take Ed’s coat. “Can I get you a drink?”

“Sure. Whatever you have. I’m not picky.”

Roy pulls down two fake crystal tumblers and a bottle of whiskey he bought at the corner store. The kind you can get at dive bars and middle class wedding receptions.

He pours two fingers for them both, and has to restrain himself from gulping down half of it right away.

“So what are your plans for tomorrow?” Roy asks, moistening his lips with the liquor.

“I’m meeting with a divorce lawyer.”

Roy is immensely glad he didn’t swallow the large gulp he was craving, as he most definitely would have spit it back up.

Ed is sitting next to him on the couch. An old thing Roy bought for twenty thousand cenz from the guy who lived here before him.

Roy tries to read Ed’s expression. Measure what his own response should be. Mournful? Congratulatory? Distressed? He can honestly say he’s never been in a situation like this before, and he feels pathetically unequipped.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he says, as neutrally as he can manage.

Silence falls over them as the ceiling fan slowly rotates above their heads, casting shadows across the walls. Ed is staring down into his glass, his posture abnormally rigid.

“Does Winry know?” Roy asks, then immediately regrets it.

Of course she knows. Ed wouldn’t keep something like that from her.

“No. She thinks I’m out here just to visit you. And the rest of the team.”

So, things are messier than Roy thought.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

Roy finally takes a deep sip of his whiskey, trying to follow the advice Riza gave him years ago:

_“It’s none of our business.”_

But he wants to know. Some juvenile part of him craves the vindication. The satisfaction of being right. He won’t tell anyone of course. But he desperately wants to know.

“It’s just a consultation,” Ed says with a shrug. “Probably won’t go beyond that. Honestly, I’m mainly just trying to talk myself out of it.”

Roy is at a complete loss. He’s never been all that adept at offering advice or consolation. It’s why his friendship with Riza works so seamlessly. They enable each other in their unhealthy habit of bottling everything up. And this is a field in which Roy has no experience whatsoever. If Ed is looking for sound advice, he won’t find any here.

“You should do whatever makes you happy,” he says hesitantly, nervous over expressing the most neutral of stances.

“Winry makes me happy,” Ed replies, somewhat defensively. “The kids make me happy. I’ve never been gone more than a few days since they were born, and it’s gonna stay that way.”

_It can’t, _Roy wants to say. _If you go through with this, then it can’t. _

But saying so won’t help anything.

“I don’t know what I’m doing here,” Ed sighs, looking around the room. Roy can’t tell if he’s referring to Central in general, or Roy’s apartment specifically.

“I might not even go in tomorrow. Who am I kidding? I’ve got nothing to complain about. We don’t fight or anything. Not more than anyone else at least. It’s not like things will be any better if I leave. I’m just being stupid.”

Roy rubs the rim of his glass, so tangled inside his own head that he can’t gauge in the slightest what Ed is searching for.

Roy’s just waiting. Waiting for Ed to say it. Waiting for him to acknowledge the truth that Roy and so many others have known for so long.

“Ed, I think I know why you’re considering this. You don’t have to say it aloud.”

Ed’s face seems to drain of what little color it had left. His mouth falls open slightly, and for a moment, Roy worries that his glass will slip out of his hand.

“You knew?” The quiet betrayal in his voice floods Roy with irrational guilt.

“No one can ever know these things for certain.”

“How long?” Ed asks, forcefully.

Roy deliberates. Considers lying. Ultimately decides to tell the truth.

“Since you first walked into my office.”

Ed’s entire frame seems to crumple.

“You bastard, why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it wasn’t my place.” Now it’s Roy’s turn to get defensive.

Fortunately, Ed’s momentary anger seems to dissolve.

“No, you’re right, it wasn’t.” He sighs, placing his drink on the coffee table and settling back into the couch with his arms crossed over his chest. Roy can now clearly see the exhaustion consuming him raw.

“I swear I didn’t know,” Ed says. “I wouldn’t of married her if I did. My mom was eighteen when she got married. Winry’s mom was twenty. Everyone in Risembool gets married as soon as they’re legal. I know it’s stupid to feel like you gotta go along with shit like that, but… I really wanted a family.” His voice tapers off, cresting higher the more he tries to hold back his tears. “I thought it’d make me stop feeling like a kid. Sometimes I wish I still had my alchemy so I could transmute a hole that I could crawl inside and seal above me. Somewhere I can just sit and cry and disappear for a while.”

Roy knows that he ought to be soothing him. That Ed likely came to his home for that express reason.

It’s terrifying to think that Ed might perceive him as someone wiser than he is. Someone functional and supportive, a father figure that he can rely on and consult in times of need.

But Roy is none of those things. But he can’t let Ed down when he’s asking so little.

“Winry’s noticed that something is off, but she just thinks I’m depressed. I can’t even sing to my baby anymore without crying because I don’t know how much longer I’ll have her.”

Finally, Roy feels the cavity in his chest gape open. He instinctively reaches out to clutch Ed’s shoulder as he tries to hold back his own tears.

“You’ll have her for the rest of her life.”

“Sure, I’ll always be the guy who helped make her, but that doesn’t mean shit if I’m not there for her.”

“Your entire life doesn’t have to be about your children.”

“Yes it fucking does,” Ed snaps, not loudly, but with enough vitriol that Roy almost pulls his hand away.

Roy can’t say he’s surprised that Ed has such extreme views on the matter. He never had the opportunity to know his parents as real people. They were symbolic. Inanimate pillars that ceased to exist when he wasn’t there. Maybe he would have a healthier outlook if he ever had the opportunity to rediscover his parents in adulthood, but that’s not an option.

So all Ed can do is try to mimic the symbol of his mother. Someone who lived exclusively to care for him and his brother. That’s his view of perfection. An impossible ideal.

Thankfully, Ed’s brief anger seems to quickly drain. At least his temper has receded with age.

“I can’t stay in Risembool if I do this. No one out there gets divorced.”

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but if you’re going to stop dating women, then you’ll have to get used to ignoring what other people think.”

The words feel vile on Roy’s tongue. He’s such a hypocrite he can barely stand existing inside his own head.

“Which is why I’m not going through with it. Not now at least. I’ll only be thirty-nine by the time the kids are out of the house. You’re almost that old, and you’re not falling apart yet.”

_Yes, I am._

“You can’t lead Winry on for that long. You just can’t.”

He finally retracts his hand from his shoulder. Their prolonged contact was verging on the edge of awkward.

“You’re so young, Ed,” he says, barely more than a whisper. “I know you probably don’t feel that way, but it’s true. Sometimes it takes a while to figure these things out. But look at it this way. You have two beautiful children. And you’ll have them for the rest of your life. If you’d realized sooner, then you probably never would’ve gotten to be a parent.”

“And maybe it would’ve been better that way.”

Now it’s Roy’s turn to feel his hands itch with anger, as well as a churning in his gut that he recognizes as jealousy. He doesn’t have the energy for this. He doesn’t have time for self-pity and regret. Not when Ed has something so precious and beautiful. Something that Roy will never have.

But he can’t say that. He can’t say any of it.

“Ed, perfect childhoods don’t exist. Even kids in wonderful homes grow up with some form of baggage or another. Will this hurt them, yes, it will. But staying is no guarantee that their lives will be any better. Or that they’ll love you any more.”

“What the fuck do you know? You don’t have kids.”

_Then what the fuck do you want from me?_

“No, I don’t.” He drains the rest of his whiskey. “And I never will.”

There, he said it.

“Oh yeah, why not? What’s your baggage?”

Roy could easily lie. He has more than enough trauma to justify his decision to live a childless life.

But he can’t lie. Not when Ed has laid all this before him. Not when this is probably something Ed desperately needs.

“Because I’m like you. In many ways, but one way in particular.”

Roy stares straight ahead at the wall, watching the shadows of the ceiling fan as they circle across his vision.

Ed doesn’t respond. And Roy almost finds himself hoping that he’ll get up and leave.

But Ed just lets out a sigh and reaches forward to lift his glass from the coffee table.

“You can’t lecture me on shit like this when you’re fourteen years ahead of me and still hiding out in here.”

A punch to the gut. Deep, blunt trauma bruising him to his core.

Ed’s right. And there’s no escaping it.

“No, I can’t. I’ve never been married and I’ve never been a father, so I’m pathetically unqualified to give you advice on this matter. All I can say is that I don’t regret it. I’ve had opportunities to settle down before. To have children. Both things I genuinely want. But I’ve always said no. Am I a lonely alcoholic because of it? Yes. But in my book, that’s better than being a lonely alcoholic who’s also stringing along someone else for something they didn’t sign up for.”

As soon as he finishes speaking, Roy flushes with regret.

He shouldn’t have said that. Their situations are hardly comparable. Ed never meant to string Winry along. He never foresaw this outcome. He never meant to cause any harm.

He’s just a kid. He doesn’t need Roy’s self-righteous judgment.

Suddenly, his vision disappears into a flash of blond as Ed leans forward like a dart to press their lips together.

“No,” Roy says after pulling away and giving Ed's shoulder a gentle press. “None of that.”

Hardly a moment later, Ed leans in a second time. This time quicker, deeper. His lips are so soft that Roy can’t help but close his eyes and soak in the contact.

But only for a moment.

“Ed, no.” Again, he pushes against his shoulder, more forcefully this time, hoping that Ed will abandon his efforts.

God, his face. Roy can’t stand to look at it. The rejection and disappointment. Confusion and desperation. He doesn’t want to see any of that.

This isn’t on him. He did the right thing. If nothing else, he can look back on this night and trust that he did the right thing.

But still, he can’t leave Ed in this state. It must have taken all the guts in the world to commit to that decision. And Roy has known that sense of craving. That desire for someone, anyone, to take care of him.

So he lifts a hand to cradle Ed’s cheek, so smooth that Roy realizes that he probably doesn’t need to shave.

Fuck, his skin is mesmerizing, and Roy can’t resist tracing a thumb along the ridge of his cheekbone.

He’s stunning. A truly beautiful creature. And Roy can’t help but mourn the youth he threw away. The people he could’ve had and the person he could’ve been. All those experiences and all that time. A plentiful well of time overflowing with gifts. Gifts that he never got to enjoy, and instead chose to pass on to his children.

He must know that he voluntarily revoked his youth. And it must hurt. It hurts Roy too.

“I’ve never… done anything with anyone else before,” Ed chokes, a tear slipping down and dampening Roy’s thumb. “Sure, I’ll look at men, but I don’t know if it’s real. I can’t leave if I’m not sure.”

Roy sighs. Of course he’s sure. He wouldn’t have come here if he had any doubts. He wouldn’t be offering to break the vow he made to his wife.

“And what do you feel when you look at me?”

Ed doesn’t answer. And to be honest, Roy is afraid of what he might say. Which is why he’s almost relieved when Ed simply leans in again, slower this time, and when their lips touch, Roy doesn’t push him away.

“You can sleep next to me tonight. But that’s it,” he whispers after they pull apart.

This is a mistake. He shouldn’t have said that. He should have quarantined Ed to the guest room. Kept his own door locked, told Ed to leave in the morning. He should’ve ejected Ed from his orbit at the first sign of trouble.

But he’s not that strong. He’s not that noble.

After maybe an hour of lying awake side by side, Ed begins planting soft kisses on his upper arm.

He’s just a child. And yet, it’s been more than a decade since Roy was last touched by another man. In fact, he was Ed’s age, now that he thinks about it.

The last time a man kissed his neck. Caressed his chest. Touched him beneath his clothes.

_You’ll regret this. You’ll regret this._

It’s not good. But it’s not bad either. It just is what it is.

It’s dark, and quiet. Roy wants to tell him that he can make noise if he likes, but it would feel hypocritical since Roy’s throat is already aching from the strain of holding back all the sounds threatening to spill over.

_It’ll be over soon. He’s not your responsibility. He’s not your child. Let him make mistakes and deal with the consequences. Let him grow up._

_It’s time to grow up._

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/blissymbolics1) / [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/blissymbolics)


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